Dog Day Afternoon
by Devi Dark Wolf
Summary: Mulder travels to Ireland for a UFO sighting trip... but only returns with a hair more than he bargained for! Is it an X-file, or are Mulder and Scully missing the bigger picture? Shapeshifting, MSR, Mulder!Jokes, and humor ensues. Post-Existance w/ baby.
1. The Change

Title: Dog Day Afternoon  
Author: Fox  
Rating: PG-13 for usual language.  
Category: S, R, H  
Distribution: Anywhere, just keep the headings and if you can, drop me a line so I know where it's going.  
Spoilers: Requiem, Existence  
Keywords: MSR, Alternate Universe  
Summary: Mulder travels to Ireland for a UFO sighting trip... but only returns with a hair more than he bargained for! Is it an X-file, is it all part of a larger plan? Shapeshifting, MSR, Mulder!Jokes, and humor ensues.  
A/N: Umm, as always, be patient with me and with my writing. This is my first attempt at a slightly humorous fic. I've got unhealthy ideas, I know... so tell me! I like feedback! Um... let's just pretend that season 8 has happened, but Mulder still has a job in the FBI.  
  
***  
  
Dana Scully sighed as she flicked off the television. There was nothing riveting on the news anyway. Her thoughts shifted to her partner, who had not contacted her for 4 days now.   
  
What was there to do in Ireland, anyway? Scully thought. "Nothing..." she said aloud, staring blankly in front of her. She couldn't wait for him to get back and hear him say, "You were right, Scully, it *was* nothing..."  
  
Mulder had hopped a plane to Ireland; there were some *enthralling* crop circles that had appeared there. That and a couple of unidentified flying object sightings that appeared coinciding with the dates of lunar plutonic...-something-or-other. Scully chided herself that she actually nearly knew what Mulder was talking about.  
  
And now it has been four days since he left, and she had not received a single phone call. That was strange, even for Fox Mulder on vacation.  
  
Perhaps he had pulled the trademark Mulder Ditch on her... and went to England instead... where that Phoebe Green was...  
  
If that was the case, Scully thought, Mulder will never see those tapes that aren't his in his desk drawer again...  
  
***  
  
Lightly kicking the door open, Mulder stepped into his apartment. The two luggage bags he held in his hands were dirty as if they had been dipped in mud. His disheveled hair and dusty clothes made him long for his shower stall like never before.  
  
Still in the doorway, he dropped his bags and closed the door.  
  
"Shower, shower, shower..." he chanted, taking off his muddy jacket and dropping it onto the couch. He stopped halfway, and decided to check his messages.  
  
Pressing the small button on his answering machine he thought, Ten to one the first message is from...  
  
"Hey, Mulder, it's me," said an all-too-familiar voice through the speaker.  
  
...Scully.  
  
"Where the hell were you and call me when you get back." BEEP.  
  
All over Eire...  
  
Mulder grinned at the thought that Scully truly cared, even when he was chasing UFOs and acting like a fool. Even so, he was not going to call her. There was no doubt in his mind that Scully had hoped she was right, that there was nothing to see in Ireland, but she was wrong again. During one of the nights he spent sleeping in a tent, he did indeed see a UFO, hovering in the distance for what seemed like a minute. It was confirmed by all of the other UFO hunters camping there. Even all of their watches stopped, which was quite strange.  
  
But Mulder wanted to make Scully think that she was right, and then *accidentally* slip that photo he took on his desk as she walked in. His cunning mind had it all planned...  
  
The mechanical voice from the answering machine stopped his thoughts and promptly stated he had no new messages... and no life.   
  
"Right. Now, where was I...?" he said, heading for the shower. As he stepped into the bathroom, the phone rang from his living room. He knew who it was, but he picked it up anyway.  
  
"Mulder,"   
  
"Mulder? You're back," Scully said, somewhat surprised.  
  
"Yes, I am," said Mulder, grinning.  
  
Pause.  
  
"Yes, well, I'm almost afraid to ask but, how was your trip?"  
  
"Well, Scully, I'd love to say that you were right, that there was nothing to see, for once in your career-"  
  
"Mulder, you're on a short leash already-"  
  
"-*But* there was indeed something to see. Those crop circles are absolutely beautiful, and there were techno - UFO geeks galore. My kinda freaks, y'know? Hey, Scully, do you know about the phenomena known as the Viagra Effect? Supposedly, some crop circles have some sort of bio-energy field and when a man enters it-"  
  
"Mulder," interrupted Scully, albeit amused.  
  
"Yeah, Scully?" said Mulder, dropping himself onto the couch. She did not answer so Mulder continued. "Well, there was this little teeny, tiny, *puny* sighting... a UFO hovered over a field in front of us..."  
  
"No *way*," emphasized Scully, "How the hell is it that you're always right?"  
  
"I don't know. You explain the logic, I'll enjoy the outcome. Shame the FBI shuns my skills."  
  
"Speaking of which, Mulder, when will you exasperate Kersh for your position back on the X-files? This seems very unlike you to be submissive. Those UFOs stun your masculinity?"  
  
"I just adore doing extensive background checks, Scully, you know me," Mulder said darkly.   
  
"I have a feeling that they have something in store for you."  
  
"Yeah..." agreed Mulder, serious again. Instantly, something clicked in his mind. "Oh, I almost forgot, how's Will doing?" he smiled.  
  
"He's doing okay," Scully said happily. Mulder could almost hear her beaming.  
  
***  
  
Across town, in a nondescript, abandoned apartment building, a man stood waiting. The building was dark except for the light of the full moon outside, shining through a broken window beside him. He stood by the corner, careful to notice all of his surroundings. In his inside coat pocket he carried a customized .375 Smith & Wesson, its registration number neatly filed off.  
  
In another corner of the building, another man entered, his trenchcoat tightly wrapped around him. He walked quickly and softly, but nonetheless, the other man heard him approach. Instinct drew his hand quickly to the side of the gun.  
  
"You're late," said the first man, neatly. He kept his hands inside his pockets by his weapon, should he need it.  
  
"Terribly sorry," said the other, his accent tipping off his nationality.  
  
"This was your slip-up, cousin, so you must deal with it yourself," stated the man, no emotion carrying through his voice.  
  
"And I have flown overseas to deal with it."  
  
"It was your ship over your neighbor's land. That is your unfortunate mistake, and will be righted."  
  
"Yes, it will." He paused. "And if I am unsuccessful?"  
  
"We will make sure you are not. After all, we were once the great Allies, right?"  
  
The foreign man nodded darkly. "We were. But let us not have pride become between what is more important than either of us. Cooperation is a necessity."  
  
"I trust you have means to eradicate the problems? As you know, we were exposed once, but now we must remain entirely secretive and unassailable. We would like to keep the cover-up as neatly as possible, as I am sure you would, too."  
  
"England will do its part to keep the Project active... and America will theirs." The Englishman pulled out a small scrap of paper out of his inside coat pocket with his gloved hands. "The first is right here in Washington, DC. A Mr. Fox Mulder."  
  
"Yes, his actions are all too predictable. How unfortunate,"  
  
The Englishman looked into his face and frowned. "He already has the Ability. He will be easy to deal with. Is this the wish of the Syndicate?"  
  
The American pulled out a cigarette and a small lighter and lit it, momentarily illuminating the face of the very much alive Cigarette-Smoking Man.   
  
"Terminate him."  
  
***  
  
When he looked up, all he saw was green...  
  
Green?  
  
He sat up, finding himself back in his tent he used in Ireland. He pulled himself out of the sleeping bag and tore open the zippered door. Outside in the dark, dozens of the other UFO hunters were standing by the edge of the mountain cliff, video cameras up, cameras clicking away. In the distance, a small, silvery craft hovered in the air, completely silent. He stepped forward, the others not noticing. As he walked next to another spectator, the craft started to fade slightly, and then began fume billowing grey smoke, as if on fire. Without warning, the craft zipped off to the north and out of sight...  
  
***  
  
Fox Mulder sat up quickly, jolting himself out of his entrancing reverie. He stared before him, trying to quickly gather his thoughts. He knew some dreams usually turned out to mean something, but wasn't sure if this one applied. He'd remember it, anyway. He rubbed his eyes, and felt his slightly sweaty forehead. When Mulder wiped it with his arm, he felt a sharp pain sear up his arm.   
  
"Ow! Shit..." Mulder rubbed his arm and instantly felt another pain, this time like a pinprick. He moved his arm up and down again, but the stinging returned, each time less painful. He was not bleeding, and was not stung by an insect. Perplexed, Mulder shook off the thoughts and lay back down, trying once in his life to sleep a full night before work the next day. Damned dreams *always* ruined his chances.  
  
Mulder turned over onto his other side and closed his eyes. But it was not after five minutes that the stinging faded into numbness. It shot up quickly through his arm like he had cut off the circulation. He sat up once more, this time worried. Rubbing his arm, the numbness spread from his arm to chest, then through his entire body. He had no time to think before the numbness has hardened into sharp pinpricking pain.   
  
He covered his face with his hands as the pinpricks multiplied. Through the darkness he could see that his arms were now carpeted in a layer of thick hair, growing quickly. His jaw and teeth lengthened, his arms, legs and fingers shortened. Bones crunched and elongated. Altogether, it was excruciating pain. He tried to cry out, but his jaws were clenched together in an effort to bear the pain. His ears moved to the top of his head and enlarged. In a matter of seconds, he had passed out.  
  
***  
  
When he awoke, it did not take him long to remember what happened before he passed out. Normal people do *not* just sprout hair all over their bodies. When he opened his eyes, he could see through the dark easily. He looked at his body. What was once a human torso was now a four-legged body and long tail, covered in dark brown fur.   
  
Fur?!  
  
Mulder jumped up and was surprised to hear a high-pitched yelp come from his own mouth. Instantly, his mind went into wild panic.  
  
Omigod, what the fuck... happened?! How the hell...  
  
His eyes nervously darted around the room. As he took deep breaths, he was bombarded with an array of scents. He stood for a moment before convincing himself that panicking would get him no where. But how many times do you get a chance to panic after you turn into an animal? He calmed himself slowly, and started to notice his new senses. Lifting his head in the air, he could smell dust as if it were lodged in his nostrils. He also noticed his hearing improved a great deal. From his room he could hear another person walking in their apartment doors away. But now was not the time to find those missing socks with his powerful nose. He shook his head and paced around. But suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. Lifting his head to the air, he nervously sniffed around.   
  
Some*thing* was out of place.  
  
He walked back into his room and did the same, then sniffed the couch. All at once, a strong smoky smell entered his sensitive nose. But it wasn't ordinary smoke. With this new nose he could tell it was a trace of...  
  
Cigarette smoke.  
  
He drew back his head as his mind reached a conclusion. Was the Smoking-Man *here*? No, he was dead. There was no way... and besides, he would never risk entering his apartment himself. He snapped back to the fact that he was now an animal... in every sense of the word.  
  
What the hell am I supposed to do?  
  
But that thought was quickly disbanded as the most obvious answer jolted into his mind.  
  
Scully.  
  
Clambering to the door, he jumped up, hitting the doorknob several times until he has successfully turned the now scratched-up knob. He pushed open the door and had more trouble than necessary closing it again. Clumsily running down the hall, he tripped over his own four legs as he reached the *door* to the stairway.   
  
Damned extra legs... I need a doggie door...  
  
***  
  
A sudden scratching sound jolted Scully out of her sleep. She instinctively reached over for her weapon on her nightstand, still stored in its holster. Her eyes darted around her room until her senses told her the sound came from the front door. Taking the gun out of the holster, she quietly stepped out of her room nearer to the door and paused. This was either a really annoying Mulder joke or something else. The scratching continued lightly behind the door. From the timing and force of the noise, it appeared to be made from something inhuman. She stepped by the door and peeked outside. Through the peephole, there was absolutely nothing.  
  
Curious, she opened the door and held the gun ready by her side, only to discover...  
  
"...Huh...?"  
  
A large brown dog.  
  
***  
  
Please tell me what you thought, what I should change, etc, it helps me as a writer. Part 2 coming soon! :) 


	2. The Ability

Title: Dog Day Afternoon pt. 2/?  
Author: Fox (IndianaSkywalker@hotmail.com)  
Spoilers: all things, Existence  
Distribution: Anywhere, keep the headings and if you can, and tell me where it's going.  
Part 2 Summary: Scully accepts the dog not knowing it was her partner. Meanwhile, the fractured but operative Syndicate further covers the UFO sighting and its witnesses.  
A/N: As always, please review; it's fun to read 'em. Heh. Oh, and it'd be stupid to read this without having read part 1 first, so suggest you do that now. Sham on. :)  
  
***  
  
Scully stood in the doorway, half asleep and half confused. There in the hallway sat the large and annoying animal that disturbed her sleep. Of all people in the apartment building, it had wake up the FBI agent, the one whose job was already dented by her partner's madness and her superiors' rage...  
  
The dog just sat there, but upon her opening the door, it seemed to become excited and jumped to its feet. It shifted feet nervously and opened its mouth, allowing the bright pink tongue to loll out the front of its mouth.   
  
But even Agent Scully had to admit, it was a magnificent animal. It had a coat of gleaming long brown fur and long, graceful-looking legs. It was quite slim, but not to the point of it looking starved. Its eyes were bright and alert, and seemed to convey an almost human sense of emotion.  
  
Scully suddenly felt a wave of compassion for the dog. She couldn't just leave it here. She always missed her previous dog, Queequeg. But maybe there was a reason Queequeg had been... eaten... by a huge... crocodile. Damn Mulder and his damned prehistoric, dog-eating X-files. Perhaps it was an omen that she could never keep any pet alive for longer than 3 months. Still...   
  
Scully peered beyond the doorway and down both wings of the hallway. How on earth did this dog make its way into an apartment building and right to *her* door?  
  
***  
  
Mulder, now somehow used to the fact that his two new legs had to miraculously work with his other two legs, had finally made it to Scully's apartment door. Although it was somewhat of a long walk, it flew by quicker with the more efficient four legs and the higher endurance of a dog's body. Getting *into* the building, however, was a totally different story. He had to open more doors to take the stairs to her apartment. But the stairways of the apartment building had the bars to open the doors, which was considerably easier than opening a doorknob.  
  
Once at the door, he considered slamming into it with his shoulder to scare the hell out of her in the middle of the night, but then thought better of pissing off an armed G-Woman. Instead, he urgently scratched it with his clawed paw. When she did not come after a full 5 seconds, he used both paws to claw the door and clip the paint off the bottom.  
  
_Scully!! Holy crap, if there's any time I need you, it's now!_   
  
Mulder silently prayed to God that if he ever got out of this, he'd never try to prove Scully wrong ever *again*...  
  
After a minute, he could hear Scully's light and slow footsteps, telling him she was cautiously approaching the door... possibly armed with her weapon. That and she was suddenly awakened at 3 in the morning, so she was possibly groggy and unaware.  
  
_Damn, even as a dog, I'm the G-*Man*! Skills are sharp as ever, in any condition._  
  
He paused his thoughts, cocked his head to hear the footsteps and sat down. It truly was amazing how sharp his hearing became.  
  
_C'mon, Scully, I need-_  
  
He was interrupted by the opening door, as Scully appeared and started down at him in confusion.  
  
_-Your... wow, hel*lo* legs..._  
  
She was wearing a light blue bathrobe that she apparently hastily put on when she heard him scratching the door. The gun she held was visible in her right hand. Hastily was damn right as Mulder stared at her.   
  
_Scully should be more suspicious of not putting on more clothes when strange dogs come a-knocking. Oh well, might as well take advantage of her when I can,_ Mulder thought as wonderfully sick ideas invaded his mind.   
  
He shook his head and against his will his mind conjured up the possibilities of the situation. He jumped to his feet and suddenly, from the torso back, became uncontrolled and started twitching. At least, it felt like it. He looked back and saw that his back feet were shifting and his tail was wagging madly, becoming a brown blur in midair.   
  
Scully stared down at him, a look of utter confusion on her face.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked him.  
  
_Funny you should ask..._ Mulder thought and barked instead. _Don't you know it's rather common for skilled FBI agents to become wild, rampaging dogs by nighttime?!_  
  
His thought somehow made his body become more excited and bounded into the apartment, and to his surprise, Scully did not become angry. Instead, she looked straight at him for a moment, considering something. Once again, she looked down the halls and closed the door.  
  
"C'mon, you can stay here for the time being. William's going to want a dog when he grows up anyway," she said, walking past him and patted him on the head. Mulder furrowed his brow at the thought.   
  
_Being my son's own pet..._ Mulder shivered at the thought. _Sounds wrong and... wholly inhumane!_  
  
She walked toward the kitchen, and he followed. Opening the cupboard, she found a large silver dish used to serve salad and filled it with water. Inside the refrigerator, she found the remains of sliced ham and set both items on the floor. Mulder, although amused at the way he was being treated, blankly stared down at the food.  
  
He didn't realize how hungry he was until his tongue popped out of his mouth again and started drooling.   
  
_I feel so primitive,_ he thought, looking up and staring into Scully's bewildered face. _Help me, Scully,_ he whined audibly.  
  
"You," she pointed an accusing finger at him, "are a strange animal." Scully turned around and walked sleepily back to her bedroom, where she lay back down and fell asleep.   
  
Mulder did not follow her until he had considered the ham and swallowed it whole.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Mulder was awakened by a slight shifting of the surface he was sleeping on. He lifted his head up to find Scully rising from the mattress facing away from him. Mulder yawned and lifted his chest up so he was lying down on his elbows.   
  
_Heh, last time I was here in this bed..._  
  
His mind wandered into the mass of photographic memories. He was quite happy to have this ability, especially during and after his most... lucky times. Mulder grinned to himself and wondered if dogs could grin, too.  
  
_Sadly, it seems to be this was the only way to be invited back here..._ Mulder thought sadly.  
  
Scully turned around now to see the long-haired dog atop her sheets, staring at her.  
  
_Maybe not *invited*..._  
  
"Nononono..." she said, shooing him off. Only after having the dog off of the bed could she see what he left behind. Her eyes widened and suddenly regretting keeping the dog with her and her clean... white... bed sheets. The dog's long brown hair was all over her white bed sheets. "Oh God..."  
  
_Oh, wow, did I do that?_ Mulder thought. _Let's hope she buys more products that don't test on animals than I do..._   
  
Mulder quickly scurried out of the room into the kitchen where he sat down in the corner. He waited patiently, making sure to keep as much of his furry body off the floor as he could. Under the door, he spotted a shadow passing by. Mulder lowered his head and his ears flattened against his head. He stared at the shadow and the hair on his back stood up. But Mulder relaxed as the shadow slipped a newspaper slightly under the door and moved on.   
  
Mulder shook himself to rid of his fear and apprehension. Amazing how dogs' emotions are so apparent and readable. One emotion triggered symptoms like the damned flu.   
  
He trotted over and clawed at it, hoping to pull it under the door. Although it was slightly torn up after he got it through, it was still readable.   
  
Mulder was quite surprised to find himself able to read the newspaper. Two of the cover stories caught his immediate interest: "President Bush Nearly Chokes on Dinner," and "D.C. Lawyer Murdered in Home." He read closer the murder case.   
  
WASHINGTON, D.C. - Police investigate the murder of Anthony Cage, a D.C. lawyer who was found earlier this morning. Neighbors reported to police yesterday that Cage had not been seen for over a week and a half. Approximately that amount of newspapers and mail were found surrounding the home before investigators entered the home. Family and neighbors describe Cage to be a quiet, gentle man, with no enemies although he "did kinda like run with all of those government-conspiracy people," said a co-worker. Cage was found inside his bedroom, a single gunshot wound to the chest, execution-style. "It looked to be a perfect fatal shot," said head of investigation Deputy Daniels. Investigators report to have no evidence yet, but assure that the capture of the suspect is to follow the gathering and analyzing of evidence.  
  
Mulder furrowed his brow when he finished. _That name is familiar..._  
  
Scully now walked out of her room toward Mulder, fully dressed for work. She kneeled before Mulder, scratching him behind the ears. A sensation Mulder never felt before - well, maybe once - overcame him. The seemingly simple motion made his knees weak and made his entire body almost sigh in relaxation. He leaned into her hand and in a moment, it was lifted from him. Mulder snapped back to reality, wondering what just happened. He looked from side to side, confused.   
  
_Whoa... that was like pot without the smoking..._ Mulder thought, looking longingly at Scully. _Omigod do it again!_ Mulder cried, yipping softly through his mouth.  
  
"Good dog," she said, patting him again. "If you are to stay here, you need a name."   
  
_Sad that I already have one and no one can hear me._ Mulder sat there anyway.  
  
Scully considered his face for a moment, so Mulder took the time to consider hers. He blinked slowly and realized how beautiful she looked all the time. Her hair was perfectly yet playfully loose by her shoulders, her blue eyes boring into his. More than ever it pained him that he could never express this feeling to her, even less so now.  
  
Suddenly, she squinted her eyes slightly as she noticed his eyes. Mulder was brought back to the present and looked at her.   
  
Scully had studied his eyes, his soulful amber-green eyes. A dog with any other color eye besides brown or blue was quite rare, even impossible. This gave the dog a wholly unique look and expression. But those eyes had something else to them... they looked like they were full of passion and were almost familiar. There was something about this dog, she knew, that was why she decided to keep it. But what could it possibly be?  
  
She got up and walked past him again, Mulder following her. Scully opened the door and walked into a room whose curtains were still closed. Inside was a crib, its occupant still asleep. Mulder heart jumped in his furry chest.  
  
_William's room._  
  
She approached the side of the crib and lifted out the sleeping child and sat down on a cushioned chair next to the wall. Mulder walked over to her side as his heart suddenly swelled with pride and love. Mulder put his head upon her leg where he could look up at little William's sleeping face closely without alarming Scully. Scully smiled as he sat down, happy as she saw the dog looking at William passively.  
  
Now, Mulder was determined to find a way to return to his normal form.   
  
***  
  
The Englishman, still wearing the dark overcoat, approached a small stone building in another part of Maryland. Quickly surveying the surrounding area, he entered the back door to the building.   
  
The building was quite old, the faint smell of mold reaching the Englishman's nostrils. There were a few lights on the ceiling and fewer windows. All of the windows were shut and barred, brown paper taped over it with grey duct tape. This gave the building a dark and secretive feel.  
  
Briskly traveling the dark corridors, he opened the door at the end of the hall. What greeted him were a few dozen stoic faces staring into him. Spotting the Cigarette-Smoking Man out of the lot, he waited by the door.   
  
"Excuse me for a moment," the Cigarette Man said softly, walking with the Englishman out into another room a few doors down.   
  
"What is it?" He asked, drawing in a breath of smoke.   
  
"I am here to report my progress," said the Englishman in mock offense. The Cigarette Man did not react. "I have eliminated three of the witnesses, all here in Washington, D.C. Lovely cities the United States has. Rather friendly."  
  
The Cigarette Man waved a hand in growing annoyance and impatience with this foreigner. The Englishman continued.  
  
"All of the Americans who witnessed the sighting in Ireland, Scott Harris, Anthony Cage..." said the Englishman, laying the murder weapon on the wooden table inside the room.  
  
"And Mulder? What have you done with him?"  
  
"I have specially dealt with him."   
  
"So you have eliminated him. What did you do?" He demanded firmly.   
  
"I injected the man with formula." He stared into the Cigarette-Smoking Man's angry face. "I'm surprised it did not cause him more pain... his Ability only made it easier for me to... eliminate him."  
  
"You've... accessed his Ability? What is it?" The Cigarette Man had an overwhelming feeling to eliminate the Englishman using with his own weapon.   
  
"The same as yours," the Englishman grinned, opening the door.  
  
***  
  
Mulder gave a heavy sigh inside Scully's room. Now he knew why his childhood dog Duke had always looked so depressed when he left the house as a boy. Mulder looked at the digital clock in Scully's room again. It was only 2:28. There was still quite a long time before she would return. And she had taken William with her so he had nothing to do but starve himself until he was hungry enough to eat that raw bacon and ham she left on the plate for him.  
  
The life of a dog was no easy or occupying task. He could certainly attest to that. Except that he was no ordinary dog.   
  
He lifted himself from the floor and remembered his promise to himself to right the situation. He needed to get back into his normal human body. But even then the work did not stop there. In his beautiful *car* he would travel wherever and do whatever to find out why this happened and how it happened. He'd do whatever it took to get back to normal. Mulder needed to tell Scully what he realized, that that saying "you only miss it once it's gone" is so #!%*ing true.  
  
Now determined, he walked over to the living room. He whined.   
  
But first... he needed to open the door!  
  
***  
  
Like it? Hate it? Tell me! I wonder if this counts as Mulder!Torture... Heheh. :) 


End file.
